


The Full Monty

by artfulinanities



Series: Just Some Tumblr Things... [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Smut Sunday, sherlock in a sheet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6857698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artfulinanities/pseuds/artfulinanities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John turns to smile at Sherlock, his shy grin turning into a chuckle. Sherlock has managed to get jam on the corner of his mouth, the sticky red jelly clinging to the bottom of his full lower lip and part of his cheek. He looks positively edible, rumpled as he is with the sheet slipping off of one shoulder, curls falling in a ‘well-fucked’ halo around his head, cheeks pink from the hot coffee and filling meal. Before he can even think twice, John cups Sherlock’s chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly, and licking the jam from Sherlock’s face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Full Monty

**Author's Note:**

> It was 12:30 am on smut Sunday and I couldn't sleep, so...this happened!

John rather enjoys Sundays. He remembers spending warm mornings as a child with his Nan in her kitchen learning how to make all sorts of delicious things, from crusty dinner rolls to sweet biscuits, everything made from scratch. While he was a soldier, Sundays without a mission were slow, with emails sent home and maybe a few hands of cards played, an underlying tension always lingering, a battle readiness in every motion. As a civilian, Sundays mean a lie-in, a cup of good coffee or proper tea, and some breakfast while reading the paper. That is, on days when there are no cases on.

After wrapping up a long, grueling three week case late last night, John is more than ready to indulge in his lazy Sunday. Stretching, he pulls his robe on over his pants and shuffles downstairs, the hazy May morning leaking sunshine in through the windows of the sitting room. He pulls out a pan, humming softly under his breath. John’s in the mood for a proper fry-up this morning, just like his Nan used to make, beans and bangers and all. Or, as his Grandad had called it, the full Monty.

John has a pot of coffee brewing and the bacon in the pan (the good, thick stuff), bangers sizzling away on the stove when Sherlock walks in wrapped in his sheet, face creased from his pillow and his hair sticking up every which way.

“Morning.”

Sherlock grunts in response, shuffling over to the coffee maker and pouring himself a generous mug; black, two sugar. He plops himself down at the table, remarkably free of lab equipment, and blinks absently, his great brain coming back online. John cracks the eggs, giving the sausages a poke.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” Sherlock rumbles, his voice low and rasping from sleep. John shivers, hiding it with a chuckle before taking a sip of his own coffee, setting the mug aside to slice up the tomato. He assembles the plates expertly, calling out to Sherlock every so often for his input. They decide on toast over fried bread, much to John’s dismay; it’s not as good that way, but he relents, popping the bread into the toaster. Smiling, John sets two complete plates on the table, setting the kettle to boil for tea as they get down to the last dregs of their coffee. Sherlock tucks in with abandon and John counts backwards to the last time he saw Sherlock eat a proper meal (four days ago; everything else has been snack food of tea). John shakes his head, tucking into his own breakfast with a fond smile. For a genius, Sherlock is surprisingly forgetful of the limitations of the human body.

They eat in silence, the occasional rustle of the newspaper or the ping of a mobile creating a gentle ambient white noise, and John feels complete, content. Seated beside his best friend, full and well rested, he can’t think of anywhere in the world he would rather be. John turns to smile at Sherlock, his shy grin turning into a chuckle. Sherlock has managed to get jam on the corner of his mouth, the sticky red jelly clinging to the bottom of his full lower lip and part of his cheek. He looks positively edible, rumpled as he is with the sheet slipping off of one shoulder, curls falling in a ‘well-fucked’ halo around his head, cheeks pink from the hot coffee and filling meal. Before he can even think twice, John cups Sherlock’s chin in one hand, tilting his head slightly, and licking the jam from Sherlock’s face. Sherlock freezes under the touch, his entire body going rigid, and John’s stomach drops. He hovers there, uncertain of how to proceed, when Sherlock makes a strangled sound, tipping his chin and chasing John’s mouth, pupils dark and wide. John meets him halfway, pressing their mouths together, Sherlock’s lips tasting of jam and bitter coffee and breakfast, but it’s warm and wet and absolutely perfect. Emboldened, John slides out of his chair to straddle Sherlock’s lap, using the change in height to plunder Sherlock’s mouth, tongue teasing, teeth nipping, lips demanding, and Sherlock yields, making sleepy, desperate noises and pulling John impossibly closer. Dizzy with arousal, John pulls back, kissing along Sherlock’s jaw and down his neck, pushing the sheet aside to expose more: more dark moles, more tiny constellations of freckles scattered over more miles and miles of perfect alabaster skin.

“Are you wearing any pants?” He nips at Sherlock’s collarbones, feeling Sherlock’s erection twitch against his thigh.

“No,” Sherlock chokes out, head falling back, lashes fluttering.

“Good.” John slides from Sherlock lap to kneel before him, reaching up to the folds of his sheet and unwrapping him slowly, hands exploring every new inch of skin he uncovers. Sherlock is a vision, all wanton and flushed, his legs spread, the sheet pooling around him on the chair and down to the floor, eyes dark and his chest a mottled pink. His cock juts, proud and dusky, from a nest of neatly trimmed black curls, the muscles of his stomach quivering.

“God, I could eat you up,” John growls, kissing up Sherlock’s right leg from knee to inner thigh, the skin soft and yielding against his assault. He sucks tiny marks into the skin, feeling Sherlock twitch above him.

“Jooohn,” Sherlock groans, reaching down and threading his fingers through John’s messy hair. Smirking, John switches to the other leg, leaving matching love bites on his left thigh. He pulls back to stare at Sherlock’s cock, the head wet and glistening with precome.

‘All in; the full Monty, then,’ he decides, leaning forwards and licking a board stripe up Sherlock’s prick from root to tip, hands coming up to brace Sherlock’s hips. He laps at a bead of precome welling from Sherlock’s slit, taking the head into his mouth and tonguing at the frenulum. Sherlock moans, head falling back as John takes him deeper, wrapping his hand around the base to work in time with the rhythmic bobbing of his head. He keeps him on the edge, taking a little more every time, easing off when Sherlock gets too close before resuming his pace. John rolls Sherlock’s balls in his free hand, giving them an experimental tug, easing off when Sherlock lets out a sound halfway between a moan and a whimper. Slowly, John reaches back to press against Sherlock’s perineum, the pressure pulling a rumbling groan from deep in Sherlock’s chest. Much better.

Sherlock’s hands grow insistent, tugging lightly as he relaxes his throat and takes Sherlock deeper, humming around his shaft, tongue working the underside while he presses against his perineum. Sherlock gives a tug of warning and John breathes in, pulling back and sliding down, feeling the head of Sherlock’s prick bump against the back of his throat. He swallows, pressing against Sherlock’s prostate and feels him stiffen. Sherlock gives a high keen and John pulls back, working the base of Sherlock’s prick with his hand as he comes, guiding him through his orgasm. When Sherlock whimpers with oversensitivity, he pulls off, hobbling to the sink to spit. He rinses the bitter taste of ejaculate from his mouth with a swig of dark roast, his own cock throbbing with the need for release. Satisfied that he doesn’t taste like come, he crawls back into Sherlock’s lap, kissing him gently and rutting against his quivering abdomen. Sherlock encourages him, lifting shaky hands to cup his arse, prompting him to rut forward, grinding his hard cock into Sherlock’s skin through the thin layer of his pants, the two halves of his robe thrown wide.

“Christ, Sherlock,” John pants, hips stuttering. Sherlock presses sloppy kisses down the side of his neck, skin slick against John’s own.

“God, John.” He squeezes John’s arse, craning his neck to mash their mouths together, swallowing John’s moans. Breathless, John can feel his orgasm coiling tight in his belly, the pressure building at the base of his spine. He gives one, two, three more thrusts and comes in his pants, clinging to Sherlock through the waves of pleasure. Sherlock holds him close, kissing him softly as his cock begins to soften and the white spots fade from his vision.

John eases back, grimacing at the mess between them. Sherlock stares down at the damp, sticky patch on John’s cotton y-fronts with a puzzled look, hands still gripping John’s arse.

“That…wasn’t quite how I’d imagined it. Our first time,” he admits, looking up at John through his lashes.

“Yeah. Sorry. Got a bit carried away there.”

“It’s alright. I…it was good. Very good ”

“Might need to clean up a bit,” John sighs, clambering down from Sherlock’s lap. He holds out a hand, smiling gently. “Join me?” Sherlock takes his hand and he hauls the taller man to his feet, pulling him into a kiss. “After all, we’ve got the rest of our lazy Sunday to ourselves.”

Sherlock smirks, pulling John down the hallway, completely unashamed of his nudity. “Indeed.”

John’s stomach does a little flip and he has the distinct impression that they are both about to get far more filthy before they actually get clean…

**Author's Note:**

> Drop by and say hello on [my Tumblr](http://artfulinanities.tumblr.com/)


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